Page 96 of Royally Rivalled

Parker put his hand on my knee and stopped me. “Ma’am, I am here as Astrid’s boyfriend. I am sorry we have not been introduced before. And while I am a bit slim, I think many women worldwide would disagree with your characterisation of the British princes.”

I fought a snicker as he deadpanned. He could be pedantic, but I loved this man.

“Parker is staying with us for Christmas,” Odette said. “He and Alexandra are on the same course.”

“And you are fine with this? The two of them… like this—” Celeste demonstrated with her cane for Alexandra’s benefit.

“What, should Astrid not be able to choose a suitor on her own?” Rick asked sarcastically.

“Parker is lovely,” Alexandra added, bopping baby Linnea on her knee. “Smart, kind, and puts up with all of Astrid’s competitive foibles.”

Parker smiled, squeezing my hand tight in his. “You’re too kind, Alexandra.”

“And you should let himtouchher?” Celeste asked.

“Last I checked, I was grown, Celeste,” I clapped back. “And last I recalled, you didn’t live here.”

“Rikard, I expected you to have things under control?—”

“You and I both know I don’t run this circus,” Rick was self-deprecating. “Nor do I wish to control Astrid. I’d hazard any wise man would avoid such a thing.”

“If he has a lick of sense,” Parker said in English. “And wants to remain whole.”

I wanted to tell Parker how much I adored his words when there was another knock at the door. In came drinks on a tray, and Queen Margaux and her husband, Prince Al.

“Oh, there you all are! Apologies for interrupting,” Margaux said. “But we were ready early. And we heard Celeste was around.”

“Well, come in. Enjoy the circus,” Rick joked.

Crisis averted. New arrivals only improved our chances of survival!

fifty-three

PARKER

Celeste was nightmarish.Astrid’s assessment of her grandmother paled in comparison to the vile reality. When she called her a “cunt” earlier in a breakdown while trying on dresses she said would all make her look “fat,” I’d been confused. Now, I understood. That wasn’t a word I threw around, but it applied. The woman claimed she needed to meet her cherubic great-granddaughter but disregarded and called her fat! A child! Even my mother wouldn’t stoop so low.

Thankfully, the Belgians saved us. Queen Margaux was the spitting image of her Queenly cousins—our Queen Natalie and Queen Kiersten of Norway. She was also ebullient and free. She announced she would take Linnea, and Alexandra agreed. A flip switched. Prince Al followed, happy to ride in his wife’s wake.

“Yes, well, Iamher godmother, so it makes sense she should love me,” Queen Margaux said. “She just gets lovelier every time I see her, Alexandra.”

“She grows too fast,” Alexandra said.

We remained standing, waiting for our Queenly host to sit.

“Oh, how rude I’m being!” Alexandra said. “You have not met Parker Westfall, Duke of Westnedge. Astrid’s boyfriend.”

“Oh, yes,” Queen Margaux said. “You did say she had brought a young man with her for the holiday. Lord Westfall, will you be joining us tonight?”

“No, ma’am,” I answered. “Astrid and I will not be tempting fate with a surprise appearance tonight.”

“Because he’s not serious,” Celeste said.

Everything she said had me on edge. Alexandra and Astrid warned me this is what she did. However, I was unable to help myself. Astrid was mine to defend. I couldn’t let Celeste cast doubt and make her granddaughter feel out of sorts.

In quick French, I responded, “That’s not true, Celeste. But she has requested peace and calm. Can we focus on that? I do love your granddaughter very much. I respect her wishes.”

Je t’aime ta petite-fille.

---